


Song for the Sleepless

by rosegoldroman



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, MORE FLUFF YEAAAA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:58:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegoldroman/pseuds/rosegoldroman
Summary: It's one of those nights — when Emile joins Remy in the hell known as insomnia, when they find solace in each other in a sleepless world. Luckily, this time Remy came prepared.





	Song for the Sleepless

It was nearly four A.M., and Emile hadn’t slept a wink.

He’d tried, sure. But no amount of chamomile tea and handy breathing techniques could seem to break through the fog of buzzing restlessness that had seeped into his bones. It grated against the exhaustion woven through his mind and kept him up pacing for hours on end. If Remy were there, he’d joke about how he’d rubbed off on him.

He wished Remy was there. He knew insomnia better than the back of his own hand, and he always knew how to help Emile through it. Besides, nothing ever felt quite as bad when he was by Emile’s side. He’d make some stupid joke or smile at Emile with those perfect, sparking eyes and everything keeping him awake would vanish. Maybe he should text him —

Something clattered out on the fire escape, and Emile paused, eyes widening. The fire escape creaked and groaned beneath  _something’s_  weight and Emile whirled around, his sleep-deprived mind instantly conjuring dozens of ideas of what it could be, and as the curtains fluttered in the open breeze he couldn’t help but wonder if, by leaving the window opened, he’d sealed his own fate.

Then a figure yanked the curtains back and peered inside, and all his worries disappeared. “Remy?” he whispered, wrapping his blanket tighter around his shoulders as he made his way to the window. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to check on ya, girl!” Remy declared, leaning over the windowsill with a cheerful wink. At Emile’s questioning gaze, he rolled his eyes. “What, a guy can’t check up on his bestie at four am? What kind of world are we living in?”

“How did you know I was awake?” Emile asked, drawing his knees to his chest and leaning back against the wall. Remy rolled his eyes, swinging his legs over the windowsill to sit beside him.

“I could hear you pacing, hun,” he said. Emile winced, biting his lip. He’d hoped his pacing wouldn’t wake the Somnuses downstairs.

“Sorry,” Emile said.

“Nah, no biggie, girl. I was awake anyway, I have a sleepless reputation to uphold.” He shifted on the windowsill to face Emile, concern sparking behind his sunglasses. “But _you_  don’t, hun. What’s with the late hours?”

“I dunno,” Emile said, thankful that the darkness of night hid the way his cheeks darkened under Remy’s stare. “Can’t stop thinkin’, I guess.”

“‘Bout what?”

“Who knows?” Emile flopped onto his back on the couch, stretching his legs out. Remy snorted, shoving away one of his feet. “The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma, you know.”

Remy laughed out loud; the sound nearly made Emile’s heart burst with sunshine. “Mood, sponge-babe,” Remy joked.

“Actually, that was Patrick.”

“Uh, can I make a sassy joke out of 'Patrick?’ No. Shut up.” Remy stuck his tongue out and Emile kicked at him, already feeling the heavy feeling in his chest begin to lift. Remy yelped as he dodged Emile’s kick, bracing himself against the sides of the window. “C'mon, girl, I’m trying to help you here!”

Emile giggled. “Sorry, Rem,” he said with a playful shrug. “Insult my cartoon references and you will get kicked.”

“Wow, harsh, babe,” Remy said in mock offense. “Suffer with your insomnia, then, biatch.”

“Nooooo,” Emile groaned, reaching towards Remy overdramatically. He opened and closed his fingers a few times to emphasize his drama. “I’m sorry, don’t go~! I love you!”

And that’s when time stuttered to a stop, if only for a moment. It had slipped out in his exhaustion and it hung in the air between them for either a split second or an eternity. Remy blinked at him owlishly, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.

But then he snapped back into normalcy. “Wasn’t gonna leave anyway, but thanks for the delicious ego-boost, girl.” He grinned and Emile rolled his eyes, letting out a silent breath of relief. It was platonic. They were platonic. It was _fine_.

“No prob, bob,” Emile said with a fond smile. Remy laughed, shaking his head.

“Anygay,” he drawled, lounging across the edge of the windowsill, “grab your pillows and jump out the window, babe, I’m boutta yeet your stress the fuck away.”

“Wh — what?” Emile sat up, laughter bubbling to the surface.

“What,  _'what?’_  That’s pretty self-explanatory, hun. Grab some blankets, too. We’re gettin’ cozy in the club tonight!”

“Uh,” Emile said eloquently. Remy laughed, and fireworks went off in Emile’s lungs.

“Come on, Em, we don’t have all night!” And with that, he slid off the windowsill and back onto the fire escape, and the curtains fell back into place. Emile sat there for a long, silent moment, before getting up to go grab some pillows.

Remy waited on the fire escape, leaning against the railing with a tiny picnic spread at his feet. He sipped from a cup of Starbucks — and Emile didn’t even pause to wonder how he’d gotten Starbucks at four AM, because, come on, this was  _Remy_  — and offered Emile a shrug and a quirked brow, a smirk slipping into place. “Ta-da~” he drawled.

“Aw, Rem,” Emile said softly. “This is… super —”

“I know, I know —”

“— califragilisticexpialidocious,” he finished with a grin.

“That’s it, no more time around Roman for you.” Remy slid down until he was sitting cross-legged on the ground. “Hand me a blanket stat, girl, we’re building a nest.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Emile saluted, and promptly threw a blanket in Remy’s face.

“What is up with you 'n Spongebob tonight?” Remy caught the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders with a dramatic flourish.

Emile laughed, spreading pillows around their tiny picnic to start the nest. “I guess nautical nonsense is just something I wish!” he said with a shrug.

“Wig, okay.” Remy set down his Starbucks, and together the two got to work, wrapping piles of blankets around the tiny fire escape into a comfortably warm nest.

Emile settled into place in the center and picked up one of the pastries Remy had brought, wrapping a Winnie-the-pooh blanket around his shoulders. Remy hesitated just before getting comfortable, eyes widening.  
  
“Wait, wait, stay right there,” he said, getting to his feet in a rush, as if something had occurred to him and he needed to act on it before his confidence failed. “I’ve got a song for you.”

“A song?” Emile’s face brightened and he smiled around a mouthful of donut. Remy blushed — actually blushed, Emile noted with a swooping feeling in his chest — and shrugged, only offering a wink before he disappeared back down the stairs.

Emile busied himself readjusting the blankets again and again, trying to keep the fluttering feeling in his chest from bursting out. A song? For him? It was exactly the kind of sweet, romantic gesture he’d daydreamed about, though he’d never admit it. He let out a breath, holding a blanket to his chest.

Remy only took a few moments to return, this time with a guitar in his arms, painted with swirls of color. He’d shoved his sunglasses up onto his head, a rare occurrence — and under his gaze, Emile felt himself melt.

“'Kay,” Remy said, dropping down beside Emile. “Prepare yaself, girl, your insomnia’s about to be yeeted directly outta here. Get comfy.”

He gestured to his side, tilting his head invitingly, and Emile’s face grew warm as he leaned into him. The rest of the weight on his chest evaporated instantly when Remy shifted to accommodate his weight, offering him a fond smile.

“Focus on my voice, girl,” Remy said. He took a breath and strummed a couple of notes, letting them hang warmly in the chilly morning air. “If I could, begin to be, half of what you think of me…”

Emile recognized the song immediately — of course he did, it was his favorite, his absolute  _favorite,_  and Remy had learned it for  _him._  Warmth bloomed in his chest and love blossomed in his smile. Remy’s voice was as smooth and warm as the richest coffee and three times as delicious; Emile wanted to drink it all in, as much as he could, forever.

Darkness swirled at the edge of his vision. He yawned, shifting almost subconsciously until he was laying in Remy’s lap. As Remy’s song came to a close, his final notes hanging in the air, Emile finally drifted off to sleep.

But not before he heard Remy’s quiet voice, softly honeyed and as beautiful as the sunrise-colors swirling through the sky.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
